THE CONSEQUENCES BEGIN TO APPEAR.
Lothar was sitting in a rocking-chair by the window of his room in the
officers' quarters and gazing after the blue rings of the smoke from
his cigar. His thoughts were far, however, from being as placid as his
attitude, and his eyes would now and then turn from the airy rings to
various papers tossed in a confused heap upon his table. At last he
threw away his cigar and took up these papers.
"Monstrous!" he muttered; "the man must be insane! How the deuce could
I ever use one hundred marks' worth of soap and perfumes? The bill, to
be sure, dates from last year. I can't prove that it's incorrect,
but I believe it to be so. And here again, three hundred marks for
gloves,--now that's an utter impossibility,--and the Berlin tailor
insists, too, that he has never been paid. The scoundrels are rolling
in the money they steal from the pockets of us poor lieutenants."
Then he remembered that he had the day before ordered another large
supply of gloves and perfumery, for in that 'den of a garrison' there
was nothing to be had fit to use. And for a moment he really reflected
upon some method of regulating his finances. In fact, it was all a mere
bagatelle not worth mentioning, but then the 'scoundrels' dunned so
insolently, and it would really be refreshing to be rid of them all.
Werner had relieved Lothar of his large gambling debt, and the latter
had had a lucky evening at play shortly afterward, and had repaid his
friend every farthing. What if he should have recourse to his friend in
his brother's absence? But then the fellow was so priggish. He had
lectured him when he went to pay him because he had won the money at
cards. As if there were any positive harm in cards! To be sure, he had
never played in Berlin, there were so many other ways of amusing one's
self there. But here in this 'infernal den' what else was there to do
but play cards, unless one was a tiresome bookworm like Werner? And
from his vexation with his bills Lothar passed into quite a fit of
irritation against Werner, and decided that he certainly would ask no
new favour from him.
"Haberdasher, perfumer, tailor & Co. may wait," he decided. "Why in
thunder did they let their bills run on so?"
A knock at the door interrupted his disagreeable reflections, and upon
his "Come in," a very unexpected visitor appeared,--Hugo von
Hohenstein. He had come to pass a few days in Rollin to superintend the
alterations there, and would not go back to Berlin, he said, without
"hunting up" his old friend and comrade. He laughed as he noticed the
pile of bills upon the table.
"Why not follow my example?" he cried, tapping Lothar on the shoulder.
"Marry a daughter of Israel with heaps of money. 'Tis the only
salvation for a poor lieutenant, and a very delightful salvation
besides, upon my honour! The young Baroness von Hohenstein, in spite of
the _nee_ Kohnheim, is a model of high-bred elegance, and our
apartments and our equipage are quite perfect. Oh, absolutely
aristocratic, I can tell you! As for Rollin, I am turning it into an
El-Dorado. You would hardly recognize it."
"What does your father say to it all?" asked Lothar, who with all his
levity could hardly bring himself to treat his former comrade with the
old genuine cordiality.
Hugo shrugged his shoulders. "Since my governor no longer lives at
Rollin, I see no reason why I should consult his taste, especially as
it seems likely at present that I shall seldom have the pleasure of
seeing him; that little witch Adela has turned his head with her high
and mighty ideas. Fortunately, he was not himself when the bombshell
exploded in the midst of us, and he could do nothing to prevent my
arranging my affairs as seemed to me best. But now when he is perfectly
well again and ought to be reasonable, he scolds and rages at my
marriage."
"Then the reports are true? I had heard something of this----"
"Of course they are true, and it is all Fraeulein Adela's doing. She has
the governor absolutely in leading-strings. He has lately refused to
see me."
"But what will he do?"
"Oh, Fraeulein Adela has arranged all that. Unfortunately, she has a
small income of her own, which was not lost in the universal crash, and
which makes her independent of me, or I could soon bring her to terms."
"But that seems to me to be very fortunate for her, and for you
too----"
"Hm! That's according to circumstances. I have not sufficient
influence; people will talk, and it's deuced disagreeable to be at odds
with the old man. It's all that witch's doing."
"Adela is a deuce of a girl!"
"She was always a good-for-nothing hoyden, but I never supposed that
she would so meddle in business matters and take such an obstinate
stand. Fancy the old man's writing to me that he was quite willing to
accept everything from her, but that he would take nothing from me!"
Lothar shook his head. He was wavering between feelings of
old-comradeship and the involuntary disgust with which Hugo's conduct
and talk inspired him.
"Well, let's have done with these cursed matters!" cried Hohenstein. "I
am so glad to see you that I must crack a bottle of champagne with you.
Have you one here?"
"No, not here; but let us go to the Casino: our dinner will be served
in half an hour."
"True, we are in the provinces; my Berlin stomach can hardly
accommodate itself to these mid-day meals. But to-day, if you will have
me, I'll dine with you, and drive from here to the station. I must go
back to Berlin by the night-train."
"I shall be glad to introduce you as my guest to our mess," Lothar
said, more courteously than cordially. "Let us wait here, then, for the
half-hour."
"Agreed. And now tell me all about the people hereabouts, and in
especial how your sister-in-law fares at Eichhof. You go there a good
deal, eh?" This question was accompanied by an odd sidelong glance.
Lothar gave various particulars with regard to his comrades and the
county gentry.
"Of course I am frequently at Eichhof," he concluded, without further
mention of Thea.
"Hm! And what are you doing at Eichhof?" Hohenstein asked.
"I go to see my brother's wife," Lothar answered, with an air of cold
reserve.
"And to make love to her?" Hohenstein said, with a laugh.
The colour mounted to Lothar's forehead; his blue eyes gleamed almost
black for a moment.
"I beg you to refrain from expressions which I regard as insulting," he
said, angrily.
"Oh! ah!" said the other. "I had no idea that you would fire up so at
an innocent jest. For the matter of that, your brother Bernhard's views
on such matters are not so provincial; he is making furious love to a
certain blonde lady from these parts."
"Bah! such stuff as is called 'making love' in Berlin society," Lothar
said, depreciatingly.
Hohenstein looked at him in his half-sneering, half-malicious way. "Ah,
you fancy you understand it better here in the country. Well, well, in
spite of that, I can assure you that Bernhard understands it too, and
that Frau Julutta Wronsky is an admirable teacher."
"You would not suggest that he is actually making love to that woman?"
Lothar said, with a shrug, and a struggle to preserve an appearance of
indifference.
"I suggest nothing; I only mention what I have seen and heard."
"And that is?"
"That is, that friend Bernhard is daily seen riding with Frau von
Wronsky in the Thiergarten; that he is her inseparable cavalier at
every ball and party; and that, last though not least, he very nearly
fought a duel upon her account,--would have fought it undoubtedly had
not his opponent preferred to make his escape----"
"Nonsense, Hugo! Bernhard is much too sensible."
"Ha! ha! Why, what a country bumpkin you are become, Lothar! Well, it
is really of no consequence whether you believe it or not. The duel I
know all about from a perfectly trustworthy source. The occupant of the
next room to that belonging to the gentleman in question, who was no
other, in fact, than the lady's first husband, is a business friend of
my father-in-law's, and knows Bernhard quite well. He could not help
hearing a part of the conversation in the next room, for Bernhard must
have roared like a lion."
Lothar rummaged among his belongings and tossed everything into
confusion. He looked for his gloves, which he had just thrust into his
pocket, and locked up his cap, to begin to search for it immediately
afterwards. Evidently his hands were as hurriedly and uncertainly
employed as were his thoughts. Hohenstein watched him narrowly, while a
smile of scornful superiority played about the corners of his mouth.
"Do you remember my prophecies with regard to the Wronsky?" he asked.
"I tell you they have been most brilliantly fulfilled. She is making a
_furor_, and Bernhard has enviers enough to satisfy the vainest of men.
A handsomer couple cannot be imagined."
Lothar tore one of his bills into minute fragments; Hohenstein leaned
back in his chair and contemplated him with the same sensation with
which a heartless boy watches the flutterings of the butterfly that he
has just impaled on a pin.
"You know that woman was never to my taste," said Lothar, "and I hope
that Bernhard's taste also is sufficiently good to see that Thea is a
hundred times the more beautiful of the two. There cannot be a moment's
doubt upon that score."
Hohenstein observed that taste was a matter which it was useless to
discuss. As meanwhile the time had arrived for the Casino, they left
the room together, Lothar's irritated mood giving Hohenstein further
opportunity for the play of his sarcastic humour.
They found a larger party than usual assembled at the Casino, for some
comrades from the next garrison and several officers from the border
posts were present. After dinner there was a bowl of punch, around
which they sat until dark; and then, since they had begun the evening
together, they resolved to finish it in the same way. A second bowl was
brewed, tables were arranged for play, and the entire company took
their places at these.
Hohenstein was still present, since his train did not leave until after
midnight. Whist and ombre not being to his taste, however, he proposed
a game of faro. "Just a quiet little game," he said, "to make matters
rather more lively."
Werner, who had just finished a rubber at whist, came up to Lothar, and
said, "Will you not take my place at that table? I see you are not yet
engaged, and I want to go home early to-night."
"No," said Lothar, who had taken more punch than was good for him, and
whose irritable mood had gradually given place to one of noisy
merriment. "No, I couldn't think of it. If you are tired of whist, come
and play faro with us."
"You know I never play faro," Werner replied, and then added, in a low
tone, "and neither ought you to play it. You never have any luck, my
dear Eichhof, and----"
"Nevertheless, I shall do as I please," Lothar rejoined haughtily.
Werner bit his lips to suppress an angry retort. He saw that Lothar
was hardly responsible for his words or manner, and he therefore only
looked him steadily in the face, and said, "I have _warned_ you, my
dear Eichhof."
He then left the window-recess, whither he had withdrawn Lothar, and
rejoined his whist-party, but without losing sight of his friend.
Lothar, however, seemed to have a run of luck, and won repeatedly.
At last the game of whist was over, and Werner, who was weary, tried
once more to induce Lothar to leave with him. But he soon saw that he
must be given up to his fate, and accordingly left the Casino without
him.
"I knew I should have no influence over him," he thought; "and this
fresh proof of it that I have had to-night makes my departure from this
place easier. Easier?" He smiled sadly. "Was there any choice left me?
I owed it to myself, and---- It is by a fortunate dispensation of
Providence that I am enabled to go so soon."
He walked slowly along the moonlit street; his footsteps echoed firmly
and regularly through the silence of the night, and straight and clear
before his mind lay the path that duty required him to tread.